The Machiavellian Front
by OriginalAwesomeSauce
Summary: When someone dies, their influence on others doesn't. Charles and Tobias Hankel died, but they left something behind. A scared young man with a loosened grip on reality. Amidst the greatest minds in the FBI, can Spencer Reid find his way back to land, or will he drown in the terror?
1. The Benefit of the Doubt

**Author's Note: **This story starts just after Season 2, Episode 17, _Distress_, and right before the 18th episode, _Jones_. It was influenced by a conversation I had with a friend about Reid's Dilaudid addiction and how it affected his relationship with the team: specifically, Hotch. I hope you enjoy reading, please feel free to leave any and all advice or comments.

**Warnings: **Drug abuse

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_Demons manifest themselves in people in different ways. For instance, out of nowhere, somebody can get very angry for no reason. That's not just an emotion. That's a demon. _- Stephen Baldwin

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He was still, eyes unfocused in a way that went against his character. It had been a month since the Hankel case. A month since he was first exposed to Dilaudid. A month since all this started. He was certain everyone had noticed his edginess, that added stress and how consumed with guilt he was. He'd been having nightmares, practically pumping himself _full _with Dilaudid just to get them to go away. Luckily, on the few cases they'd worked since then, he'd bunked alone. No one saw, so no one _knew_. Not really.

Of course, he didn't doubt they would figure it out if they hadn't already, but it wasn't anything he had to worry about yet, not if they weren't going to be actively involved in a case. And they - the team, that is - were on their way home from their latest case with the war veteran. Reid was in pieces. Seeing people die wasn't the same anymore. He knew how it felt to be preyed upon, what it was like not to have hope in finding a way out. He was compromised, lost. In the end, he supposed, he was just the little boy everyone saw him as. Perhaps he wasn't as prepared for the job as he had predicted himself to be.

What else did he have, though? He'd sent his mother away, his father had abandoned him. He had the team, and that was it. There was nothing else for him, at least, he'd been convinced of it. A voice calling his name finally broke him out of his thoughts and Reid focused on the man in front of him. Hotch offered him an almost sympathetic smile, which Reid responded with a forced grin of his own.

Pointing to the single seat opposite the boy, Hotch arched an eyebrow. "May I have a moment?" He sat at Reid's confirmation, falling into the chair with a sort of ease. "I wanted to check up on you. I know things have been rough since the Hankel case," he paused momentarily, carefully eying the agent at the mention of the name. He squirmed, not unreasonably. "Are you hanging in alright?" There was no audible answer, though the silence was accompanied by a hesitant expression as if he were thinking, and that was answer enough. "I won't make you answer anything you don't want to, but I'm here if you need anything."

Finally, he got a reaction in the form of a nod. "Thank you, Hotch." Reid's voice was quiet, contemplative, but they both knew he understood. Hotch _knew_. Well, Reid was pretty sure he did. He was _Hotch_, it was almost impossible to get anything by him. Even the smallest thing, like if he hadn't eaten lunch. Hotch would know. He knows everything that happens with his team, though Reid didn't understand how. "I know you're… willing to listen. All of you are. But I'm fine." The lie was accompanied by a small smile and another nod that neither believed.

Hotch seemed content with the untruth, though. "Tell me if that changes. If there's anything I can do to help you, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask." Standing, the bossman straightened his jacket and took a step back towards his own seat, but a hand on his forearm stopped him. The two stared at each other for a moment in silence, blissfully unaware of the stares they received. "Yes, Reid?" Hotch finally asked, turning towards the boy.

"Could you… stay with me until we land?" Neither noticed how Morgan looked away in an attempt to hide a laugh, how JJ chuckled at what she thought was Reid being an adorable kid, how Gideon was suddenly staring at Hotch as if he were some boy who planned to break Reid's heart. "I could, um, use someone to talk to, I think."

Aaron's expression softened into something more real as he sat back down, leaned across the small table between their chairs. "Of course, Reid. Is there anything in particular you want to talk about?" Or did he just need a distraction? They all knew about those. Distractions became necessary in a job like theirs. Granted, none of them approved of Reid using drugs as one, but without solid evidence of it, Hotch was inclined to give the boy the benefit of the doubt for now - only until things grew to be more clear. And they would.

Reid shifted almost uncomfortably for a moment before he sat up a bit straighter. "How's Jack?"

"Jack's good," Hotch replied without hesitation, almost an instinct. "He talks about you. He misses his Uncle Spencer," the man teased gently. They didn't spend much time together outside of work, but when they did, Jack just absolutely adored Spencer. Hotch had told himself to invite Reid over more once upon a time, but he never followed through. It was almost a shame.

A genuine smile briefly graced Spencer's lips. And there was a pause. "I miss him too," the boy half-growled before suddenly tipping his head down and pinching the bridge of his nose. He found a hand on his shoulder after a moment, supposedly a friendly, reassuring touch, but he felt as if it was more likely a cause for concern.

"Reid are you -"

"-Okay?" the genius asked as he sat up slowly, forcing another pained smile. "I'm fine, I just got dizzy for a moment. You know, turbulence and all…" It was another blatant lie that no one commented on. It wasn't the right time or place for that.

Hotch nodded in disbelief, and retracted his hand. "You should come over for dinner soon," he deflected, "Jack loves you, and I'm sure Haley wouldn't mind someone else taking care of him for a few hours." The offer seemed genuine, though Reid had his suspicions that there were ulterior motives. He accepted anyway.

"I'd love to, Hotch, really." His acceptance was, perhaps, more genuine than the offer itself, though being around the Hotchners worried him a bit given his recent extracurricular activities. "I can cook for you guys, it's the least I could do."

Immediately, the elder agent shook his head. "I couldn't ask you to do that. I'll cook for all of us, give Haley a break and-"

"You wouldn't be asking me to," Reid interrupted bluntly. "I'm offering." A moment went by in silence. "I've been causing some tension in the field ever since…" His voice trailed off, but he figured anyone with half a brain could fill in the blank. "The truth is, I owe you, Hotch." He was wringing his hands together, almost as if for fear of rejection, but both knew that didn't quite fit in the situation. He was antsy, craving a release. Clearly, though, he'd had enough Dilaudid for one lifetime as it was.

Aaron seemingly took time to contemplate the idea, though Reid knew it easily could have been a cover up for the man profiling him. "Alright," he finally agreed, "if you're sure, then I'll talk to Haley and we'll see when you can come by, assuming no cases interrupt us this weekend. Does Sunday sound alright to you?"

To anyone else, it would have seemed like a typical friendly gathering. But to a profiler, this was something else. It was Hotch's chance to get a fix on just what was wrong with Reid. And since the boy only had half a sense that it wasn't what it appeared, and he had no idea what, exactly, Hotch might be planning, it was his turn to give the benefit of the doubt and trust his friend was doing him an act of kindness.

"Sunday sounds great, Hotch."


	2. The Fault in Family

**Author's Note:** Wow, thank you all for the support! Here's chapter 2. Please, don't hesitate to leave comments or feedback of any kind.

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The rest of Friday was spent mostly by the team shaking off their jet lag, and then Saturday was spent writing reports. They were necessary, but damn were those things annoying. Sunday finally rolled around, after what felt like weeks to Reid, and he was nervous. He'd made the mistake of taking Dilaudid not too long before leaving for Hotch's. Of course, had he _not _taken any, there would be some pretty negative withdrawal symptoms. He supposed there was really no _good _option there.

Reid was stuck in the middle of a moral dilemma. Drugs were wrong. What he was doing was worse than _wrong_, it was _illegal. _He was FBI; they were supposed to arrest people who broke the law. Still, he stood outside Hotch's door nervously, a dark purple button up shirt under a solid black vest. The tie was obvious, though, as usual, tucked underneath the vest, along with khakis that came down and gently rested on his ankle just above the black converses that had been laced up tightly, with purpose. Rocking back on his heels, the boy swallowed almost in fear of what was on the other side of the door.

He knocked.

The footsteps from the other side were audible. Heels, he deduced, so it had to have been Haley. The door opened and he was surprised by the immediate gratefulness he was greeted with. Things always seemed tense around Haley. He couldn't help but wonder if it was a front, if she had just been fighting with Hotch again. She did look like she was on edge... He closed his eyes briefly and reminded himself to keep the observations to work. He was here to relax. "Where's Jack?" he asked, sliding his hands into his pockets and stepping inside the house.

Really, it figures that would be his first question. She certainly didn't seem surprise, an almost genuine chuckle somehow filling the room. "He's upstairs with Aaron," she replied, closing the door behind Reid. "The boys will be down in a minute. Do you want to sit?" There was no real transition between her sentences, something that, to him, indicated a level of nervousness.

Neither spoke for a moment, just allowed the air to consume the awkwardness. And then there were footsteps. It sounded like Hotch running. The stomps were heavy against the stairs and Spencer could tell he was skipping steps on the journey down. He smiled, the hint of a laugh on his lips, as he saw them coming down like they were _both _kids. "Uncle Spencer!" Hotch cooed as if imitating the infant. He jogged up to his friend, who gladly took the child and holstered the boy at his side.

"Hey little guy," Reid greeted with an easy smile.

Hotch noticed. And he stared. Stared because he hadn't seen Spencer genuinely happy since the Hankel case. It influenced a smile of his own and that cued Haley's turn to notice. A light jab to the gut from an elbow knocked Hotch back into reality and wiped any remnants of happiness from his face. "It's good to see you, Reid." Of course, they saw each other pretty much every day. Reid saw Hotch more than Haley, or even Jack, did. It was a cause of guilt for him, actually. There he was, kindling crush on his boss, when the man had a wife and kid. He knew then that he shouldn't have come.

Still, the agent couldn't take his eyes off Hotch for a moment. The man had on a thin, white, v-neck t-shirt and what looked like an older pair of jeans, given the small, sporadic holes in the legs, presumably from playing on the ground with Jack. "You lied to me," he said teasingly, staring Hotch in the eye. He completely ignored the fact that the man's wife was there. "Jack's one-and-a-half. He doesn't _miss_ me," the younger agent accused, to which his boss scoffed playfully and offered a look of innocence.

"I'm a profiler, I know my son. He's happier around you." Probably because Haley refused to fight with Hotch around company. "And I needed you to come by. You're stressed, and Gideon can only beat you at so many chess games before you get upset." It was obviously a joke; they both knew _Reid _was the one who won. "Anyway," he quickly added in an attempt to make Haley's anger subside, "you and Jack should go play for a while." But Reid knew what that was code for.

So, naturally, his smile faltered and he instinctively gave Haley a warning glare. "Come on Jack, we're gonna go play," he said anyway. He hoped that he wouldn't notice the fighting, wouldn't think about it, but he could already feel the temptations of... but he ignored it. He'd already taken some today, he didn't need to keep pumping himself with it just because he sensed stress coming. He wasn't _addicted_, he just was a bit _dependent_, and he didn't want to see himself get any worse than that. Of course, he knew he was already on that road and he couldn't get off it without asking directions, which was a scary reality for him. Still, he scurried up the stairs and into the playroom.

Hotch immediately turned to his wife and awaited the inevitable screams, but instead, he got one sentence. Once sentence that immediately tore him apart: "_you just had to bring your boyfriend home, didn't you?" _The tension boiled to a peak and he subtly shoved his fingernails into his palms. "All I asked for was one day you devoted to your family, Aaron. One day. I guess that's just too much to ask, isn't it?"

"First of all," Hotch began, face schooled into the emotionless mask he often wore, "nothing's going on between Reid and I. I'm fifteen years his senior." Haley didn't seem to accept that. Obviously, he wasn't with Reid. But it was clear to her that he was more of a boyfriend to the kid than he was to her. By her perspective, at least. "Second, I invited him here because he's going through a rough time. He was nearly killed in the field -"

Haley scoffed. "Let Gideon take care of him." Another silence. "I told you, Aaron, keep your work at the office." Neither could look the other in the eye. "I know you think you're doing the right thing, but not everything is your responsibility. You have a family here, Aaron. Or have you forgotten?"

The fighting went on, but a couple hours later, Spencer was in the kitchen. Cooking, as promised. The Hotchners had all started out in living room, though the silence was killing Hotch and spaghetti smelled surprisingly good. "Excuse me," he requested as he pushed himself from the couch and approached the kitchen. He stood in the doorway for a moment and simply admired Reid before he spoke. "I didn't expect it to smell so good," he joked and stepped into the room, a mere foot or two from his friend.

"Yeah, well... I looked up a recipe. I really wanted this to go okay, so I have broken down directions and-" He was babbling, obviously nervous. "It's, uh, a bit... toasty in here, huh?" The boy began to roll up his sleeves, but caught a glimpse of his forearm and immediately remembered why he'd had them down. He knew he was being too obvious about it, but he wasn't trying to. "Dinner's almost ready. You guys should go get washed up."

Hotch knew it was a deflection, and he eyed the boy's arm curiously before nodding. "I'll get Haley and Jack and we'll set the table." And that's exactly what he did.

When the Hotchners had been seated, Haley had a glared glued to her face. It was hard for Reid to imagine Hotch could have fallen in love with someone so... angry. The plates were being placed on the table. First Jack's, which was, admittedly, hardly significant in the slightest. Then Haley's, Aaron's, and Spencer's last. Hotch did a double take. "Is... something wrong, Hotch?" Reid spoke quietly as he sat, swallowing nervously.

"Is that all you're eating?" He asked, quite rudely, actually. The plate was hardly filled, especially in comparison to his own. "You need to eat." Immediately, Aaron moved to put some of his onto the boy's plate, something the did not get past Haley, but Reid refused.

"I'm really not that hungry, Hotch," Spencer protested. "Seriously, don't worry about it. I'll eat at home." He appeared sincere enough, but something just seemed really weird about it. Hotch let it go. What else could he do? Maybe they both needed their space. But maybe they wouldn't get it.


	3. The Tardiness Factor

**Author's Note:** Hey! So, um, my girlfriend and I are about to go on an impromptu road trip, so I'll be gone for two or three days, but I hope to be back and writing again soon. I've already started chapter 4, so it shouldn't be too hard to finish when I get back.

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It was Monday morning, early enough that the sun hadn't even peered out from the horizon yet. The lights in the office were dim, Hotch struggled with the keys to his office, and Reid went unseen by his desk. Until there was a groan. Aaron turned around almost immediately, relaxing at the first sight of Spencer. He began and took a step towards his agent, but froze at the uttering he could have sworn he heard. "Tobias..."

The name was clear, but scared Hotch. He took another hesitant step towards the boy, lying on the desk with his face buried in his arms. Honestly, it was surprising anything he mumbled could be understood. "Reid, wake up," Hotch commanded, but no luck. He cleared his throat and kept walking until he was beside the boy, and he knelt down. He simply reached an arm out and placed a reassuring hand on Reid's shoulder. "Reid, you need to wake up," he repeated, voice stronger this time. "_Reid._"

Aaron startled himself when Spencer finally moved, groggily lifting his head. "H-Hotch?" the boy asked, rubbed at his eyes. "Um, I'm sorry, I only came in to finish my report and -"

Hotch shook his head, placing a finger gently to Reid's lips. It was an obvious lie; they all knew Reid had already finished. Maybe it was that he was too tired to come up with anything substantial. "You slept here?" Hotch questioned, focusing on the clothes. Come to think of it, that was what the boy wore to his house the day before. "You didn't go home." It wasn't a question, not by far. "Have you even eaten?"

Rather than reply verbally, Reid simply shook his head at first, though Hotch's look of disapproval cut that short. "Yes, I came right here from your house, and no I haven't eaten - but I'm not hungry."

And he hesitated; they both did. "Come on," Hotch insisted as he stood, pulling on Reid's hand in a way that indicated the younger should follow. "We'll head to the kitchen and see if there's anything we can cook up." He never missed a step, one hand on Reid's back as they strolled to the kitchen. "You really need to take better care of yourself, Reid. We need you in the field, and right now we're not getting your best." He finally retracted his hand, though neither admitted it had lingered a bit too long. Because it felt natural.

Of course, natural wasn't _always _a good thing, but that wasn't anything that mattered yet. "Sorry, Hotch," Reid spoke dismissively, in a way that suggested he wasn't totally sincere. "I'll do better." The promise was empty and they both knew it, but Aaron knelt down and opened a few cabinets. Reid knew there wasn't anything for him to eat in there, he'd already looked. However, he had hoped that JJ would walk in with a case and Hotch would just forget about 'taking care' of him. Spencer was an adult, he could take care of himself.

"Why didn't you go home?" Hotch questioned again as he rummaged through the nearly barren cupboards without finding anything substantial. Of course, he shouldn't have expected to in the first place. It was a public workspace. Why would good, usable food just be _lying around _in the _kitchen _of all places? No, that would be too easy.

"Nightmares," the boy replied silently, crossed his arms over his chest defensively indicating insecurities, and shuffled his feet. "I've been having a hard time sleeping." He didn't need to elaborate, the implications were clear enough as they stood. In fact, the clarity gave them both pause, a moment to mull over the situation once more, replay the day in their minds. So the rummaging stopped.

Hotch, still with one knee on the ground, turned to Reid. "Do you need time off to think?" he finally offered. His team couldn't function fully without all the players being together, in one piece. It was obvious Reid wasn't. He was stressed, and Hotch couldn't technically condone the use of Dilaudid. "You went through a trauma, it isn't required you be here right now."

Spencer scoffed and shifted again in discomfort. "I've had time, Hotch. I should be over it." It would have almost been believable, except for the part where traumas didn't work like that. Traumas were horrible, they repressed the happy memories. Someone could have constant nightmares for decades over a single, life-threatening event. Or, really, anything that scared them half to death.

Hotch stood, and the way his jaw clenched was obvious. "That has nothing to do with it," he insisted through clenched teeth. "You and I _both _know traumas don't work like that." There was a tone to his voice that suggested something more personal than probably intended, and the slight twitch of the agent's hand confirmed Reid's suspicions. "You have every right to be afraid, to not be... _okay_." Sometimes it took years, others longer. Some people never got over their pain. It wasn't like his emotional break down came from left field.

Reid reached out to put a hand on Hotch's shoulder, but hesitated at what he could have sworn was a flinch. A slight one, but a flinch nonetheless. Still, after a moment, his thin fingers ended up coiled securely around his boss' shoulders, comfortably even. "How do you deal with it?" Spencer asked in a soft voice, not indicating judgment or wonder. He didn't even care what it was. He just needed help to cope.

"I work harder," Hotch responded almost immediately. He then took a step away, cleared his throat, and looked at a few upper cabinets for food He came out with nothing. "How would you feel about going out to breakfast?"

The answer came in the simple form of Reid walking out of the kitchen. Naturally, Hotch followed, grabbed a coat, and led the boy to his car. Hotch drove, seeing as Reid wasn't in any state to, and they were there in a matter of minutes. He had never actually been to the place before, instead Aaron let Reid give him directions to some place with a name in a different language. He couldn't be bothered to remember what it was, but the moment they stepped inside he smelled pancakes and that was good enough for him.

Their waiter, a nice man around Reid's age, led them to a table and got them situated. Most people there probably thought Hotch was being friendly towards a stranger, or something, given the boy's disheveled appearance in correlation to his own. But it didn't matter. "I'd just like a coffee," he said before looking at Reid, who was coerced into ordering pancakes, eggs, and sausage. It was surprisingly not foreign for a place that appeared European, but Hotch ignored that. Maybe the name was purely for attraction purposes.

Neither said a word while waiting for food. There wasn't much left to say, and it had only been a few minutes anyway. Reid was only halfway through his first pancake, however, when a phone started ringing. Hotch reacted first, with a sigh and an over exaggerated movement as he grabbed for his phone.

"Hotchner." His monotone greeting slipped out with ease, eyes naturally falling to his watch. It was later than he thought, but didn't think much of it. His eyes paused on Reid's face briefly, and he nodded. "I understand. And, JJ, don't bother calling Reid. He's with me already." He hung up without warning and stood, quickly followed by Reid, who he stopped with a hand on his chest. "Take it with you, Reid."

"Hotch-" Reid began, quickly synthesizing an argument as to why he shouldn't have to box the food. He was interrupted.

"You'll eat it on the plane." There was no more discussion, Hotch made sure of that. Nothing was more important than making Reid eat. They waited a moment, just until their waiter came by, and grabbed a box for food while they paid the check. Well, while _Hotch _paid, at least. And the car ride back seemed somehow longer than the ride there, which would almost explain their tardiness to the briefing room.

The team had just been on their way out when they arrived. "There you guys are!" JJ called. She looked stressed, like this was the last thing she needed. "I have your case files, but you need to be fast about going over them. Wheels are up in five."

"We'll catch up on the plane. Thank you, JJ."


End file.
